


Day 4. Spell | Night Sky's Components

by steadycoffeeflow (Salimity)



Series: Inktober 2018 [4]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Bad change, Inktober 2018, Minor Violence, Shock, Sumo is best boy, Sumo saves the day, Why am I so bad at happy fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-28 06:07:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16717835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salimity/pseuds/steadycoffeeflow
Summary: It was a ritual of exchange, built up every month with the usual excuses, the off-hand comments and questions, the rising tensions and building anxieties the more full the moon got with each passing night.“Chains were weakened last time. Did we get those replaced?”“Yup. They’re already in the garage, Hank.”“Chew toys and crate all made up?”“You could say that,” Connor replied, the image of a tire in place leaned against the wall.Almost as if these pieces needed to be set up to make up a singular whole, each month. Components cast in a moon-bound spell.But, of course, the transformation came unbidden whether they did this dance or not.





	Day 4. Spell | Night Sky's Components

 

It was a ritual of exchange, built up every month with the usual excuses, the off-hand comments and questions, the rising tensions and building anxieties the more full the moon got with each passing night.

“Chains were weakened last time. Did we get those replaced?”

“Yup. They’re already in the garage, Hank.”

“Chew toys and crate all made up?”

“You could say that,” Connor replied, the image of a tire in place leaned against the wall.

Almost as if these pieces needed to be set up to make up a singular whole, each month. Components cast in a moon-bound spell.

But, of course, the transformation came unbidden whether they did this dance or not.

Connor had found out the hard way. He’d have given the CyberLife engineers some difficulty with that unit replacement report.

_ A large dog. Not a bear? Data a bit fuzzy? Memory recall has it looking like a big dog at least. Said he had a St. Bernard? Huh… _

Of course, Sumo hadn’t torn Connor to shreds when he fell through Hank’s window. It had been a completely different beast. And memory recall hadn’t been fuzzy enough to remove the hulking image of the creature lunging forward - nor erase the final thoughts of Connor’s programming that he needed Hank Anderson to be okay.

What Connor’s programming hadn’t accounted for was the creature  _ being _ Hank Anderson. That had been a shock that almost required a full reset of several internal systems.

The relationship between the two of them had changed entirely from that point on. Hank trusted Connor more, almost had to with the nature of that secret. And then, Connor had a secret to trade with Hank, even if it was only a secret for a short time: his deviancy.

This current full moon, things had proceeded as normal. Work, unhealthy eating habits, and then the casual checking of Hank’s setup in the garage when they both got home.

“You know,” Connor said as Hank slid into the wall restraints. “I always did wonder why you never parked your car in here.”

“Yeah well,” Hank muttered. The restraints were able to be tightened and loosened by the wearer. Connor was just there for assistance. Hank had been living with this for half his life, after all. “Couldn’t have the neighbors getting a peek and thinking I was into some kinky shit.”

“Literal whips and chains lifestyle.”

Connor had seen Hank transform once, and out of a polite respect for the man, he never did again. The noises picked up around 7:57pm. Connor watched a movie on the couch with Sumo, who whimpered but otherwise seemed used to these nights too. After all,  _ he  _ had been living with Hank his whole life.

Android and dog sat together to watch another movie. It was a marathon on TV, Hallmark Mystery, because Connor enjoyed a glutton of easily solved cases even if the fictional police-work left something to be desired.

Things quieted down from the garage just minutes before 2am. Sumo remained on the couch as Connor slid off it, advancing on the garage door. “Hank?” Connor leaned into the darkness.

The chains were hanging on the wall, empty.

Connor barely had time to process “Shit,” and step back into the house before he was hauled roughly into the dark. He pitched forward, slamming onto the concrete, and he rolled.

Hank snarled above him, breathing heavy.

It wasn’t that Hank was always dangerous. There was usually a cool down period where the aggression had to be worked out of him. But other times, the beast was content to nap throughout the night.

This didn’t seem to be one of those nights as Connor pushed off the concrete to his feet. Hank swatted his back, even as Connor spun to avoid it, knocking him into the opposite wall. Tools rattled and fell off the shelf.

Hank stood at least a foot and a half taller than Connor like this, easily dwarfing him. All softness was removed from the human, every muscle taut, shaped by nature and violence. There was still a lot of bulk to Hank, and his size made his speed and agility all the more surprising to deal with.

“Hank, it’s me,” Connor tried shouting, and he threw up a defensive arm.

Hank lunged and caught the arm between his teeth, snarling and wrenching back and forth. Connor was lifted and jostled by the force of it, but brought up a left arm to hold onto the were’s hulking shoulder. Made it so his right arm wasn’t completely torn apart free from his body. The wolf let go, taking a ragged claw and slashing down Connor’s front, pushing the android’s grip off of Hank’s body.

Connor rolled to the center of the room, error messages flashing. The skin on his arm had peeled back exposing the white chassis beneath, cracked and leaking rivulets of thirium onto the concrete. “Hank, please,” Connor tried again, pushing up with his good hand.

Hank was advancing, step by step. His fur, grey and matted, shimmered even in this dim light. His whole form lit up, captivating Connor even like this, monstrous. Jagged teeth of yellowed ivory bared at him, peeled back and away with thick black lips. Thirium dripped from the maw, drops falling just by Connor’s hands. His fingers curled away from it, and he tried one last tactic - Connor rolled onto his back, exposing his belly.

He could still fight if it came to it. Likely would as panic settled in. There was no replacing him, not if he was destroyed completely. And Hank’s bite mark already was going to cost a great deal, the limb cost of a considerable fortune. Connor held up his undamaged hand. “Hank, please, it’s me. Easy, Hank.”

Hank lowered his face to Connor, mouth parting. Heavy, hot and heated breath rolled over Connor, picked up and then lost in the sea of warnings and proximity alerts going off in his mind. But instead of snapping, those teeth clamping down on Connor’s hand, the werewolf suddenly lurched back.

A small  _ boof _ could be heard from the garage door.

“Sumo,” Connor shouted, sitting upright in alarm.

The werewolf staggered, snarling and snapping at Connor, teeth grasping nothing but air. A warning not to move so quick.

But Sumo just tilted his head, tail wagging limply as he descended the steps into the garage. He sniffed at Hank, then made his way over to Connor where he sniffed and licked Connor’s uninjured, offered hand. Then he whined. “Oh do you...do you need to go out, boy?” Connor asked, watching Hank carefully.

The werewolf was retreating with each second, slightly shifting on the pads of his feet as he stared at both android and dog. Sumo reacted to the word “out” and laid a heavy paw on Connor’s chest. Confirmation. “Oh well. Then okay then let’s. Let’s take you for a walk.”

Connor rose to his feet slowly, holding out his still functioning hand and never taking his eyes off of Hank. “Sorry for intruding Hank,” he said, backing up toward the door. For his part, Hank never took his eyes off of Connor. The beast’s expression was unreadable as he just breathed, body straining against something unseen.

Sumo surged back into the house, trailing prints of Connor’s spilled thirium. Connor foot stepped on carpet and he began to pull the reinforced door shut. “I’ll see you in the morning, then.”

The only response he got was a snort before the door clicked shut.

In the serene moonlight, Connor stood with Sumo’s leash wound around his hand, struck in a daze. The violence that had just happened had only taken seconds. Sumo’s business took three times as long as Hank’s attack did, the dog kicking his back legs over his work before guiding Connor back into the house. Connor moved, steps staggered, as he devoted more of his failing energy to his processors, trying to understand what had happened.

Had he really been that stupid? Had Hank really done damage to him?

The flash of alerts as he tried to use his right hand told him yes to both of those questions.

Connor sank back onto the couch, staring at the TV. Even more dissonance, the leading lady was putting the small town detective in his place as she violated two police protocols in a single scene.

Sumo sat at Connor’s feet, tail wagging expectantly. “Right. A treat for being a good boy. Give me. Give a moment, Sumo,” Connor was saying in a voice he didn’t have full control over. Sumo never got his treat, for as Connor rose to stand, he was overwhelmed by a new flashing series of messages, his vision going awash in red static before descending completely to black.

\---

“Connor? Oh my God, Connor no. Connor! Son, wake up- Connor!”

Hank was jostling Connor, not quite shaking him. A slap would have been appropriate, Connor thought dimly, or thought that had been contained to himself, as Hank stopped a moment.

“A slap? I think I did more than a slap, Jesus fucking hell and Mary, Connor.”

A rough, calloused hand on his face. Connor tried to lift his right hand, had to settle for reaching across with his left. A new wave of alerts had him wincing. He was operating on failing energy. Emergency self-repairs had been made while he was down, but there was only so much his state-of-the-art programming and software could manage before professional repairs needed to be made.

“I’m.” Hank’s hands wound into Connor’s stained and shredded shirt. “Oh God, I’m so sorry Connor. Connor please. What do I do.”

Do? Nothing. Connor would be just fine. They’d get him repaired. And then they’d go to work like they always did. Same song and dance. Same monthly spell. Routine and simple and so beautiful in how normalcy wrapped around this weirdness between them.

He had to make Hank understand that. Had to tell him so.

Connor raised a hand to pat Hank’s quivering back. It took focus to make the errant limb to cooperate, but when he got it to, Connor turned his head to the side and broke out in a relieved grin. “See. Everything’s just fine, Hank.”

**Author's Note:**

> Narrator: Things were definitely not fine.


End file.
